


The Road to Deliver

by CillixMys



Series: All Roads Lead to War [1]
Category: Fallout 3, Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Amnesia, Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, Clumsy Courier, F/F, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Other, Polyamory, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, nb!Courier
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-05-20 17:55:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14899233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CillixMys/pseuds/CillixMys
Summary: The Lone Wanderer is a long way from home. The Courier has some memory problems.Revenge is one hell of a motivation, but how long an one person's luck last?





	The Road to Deliver

The first thing they recognized was pain; a headache threatening to tear apart their head. The next thing they noticed was a bright light, as their eyes fluttered open only to slam back shut. Trying to sit up, they realized they were extremely weak, tired, and nauseous. They began struggling to get up. 

A voice sounded out from across the room, “Hey doc, they’re up.” 

They resigned to continue laying down as footsteps approached the bed.

“You awake?” An old man said tenderly, standing near the bed.

“Yes,” they tried to answer, but it was replaced with unintelligible groans. 

“I’ll say that’s a yes. How about we get you up?” They felt someone’s hand slide beneath their body, helping them finally sit up. “There you go. Now how about you try and open those eyes?” He sat down nearby as they slowly began opening their eyes. 

When they finally open, they looked around. There was an old man wearing a red bandana over a dark colored jacket and pants sitting a couple feet from the bed. He was bald with a trimmed white mustache. Behind him was some old medical equipment; a wheelchair, projector, various hand held tools. To the left was a boarded up window with some bright light shining through. 

Across the dimly lit room was an old fortune-telling machine next to a door. A few feet further to the right was another door, with a woman leaning against the frame. She had her dirty blond hair pulled up into a messy bun. Her bright blue eyes stared back, cold and analyzing. On her left arm was an odd looking machine, wrapped around her wrist over her dirty blue jumpsuit. Various patches of hardened leather and metal were attached to the clothing, providing some protection along with a single shoulder guard on the left shoulder. On her collar were some numbers that the recently awoken person couldn't make out.

“Can you see alright?” The old man asked, which provoked a moan slightly resembling a yes. “Good. Here’s some water. Don’t drink it too fast.” He held up an opened water bottle which they carefully grabbed and brought to their lips. They hadn’t realised how thirsty they were through all the pain but relished the feeling of cold water.

They drank the entire bottle over a few minutes as the man carefully looked them over. Once the bottle was empty, he took it back and set it beneath the chair.

“Now that you're awake,” he spoke, “I’ll introduce myself. My name’s Doc Mitchell, but you can call me Doc. How you feeling?”

“I’ve been better, but I think I’ll be alright,” they said.

“Good to hear. Now, can you tell me your name?” 

They went to reply, only to realise that they didn’t remember what their name was. “I.. I can’t remember.” They answered, shaking their head. Which was a bad idea, given the new wave of nausea that washed over them. 

The doc stood and supported them while gently saying, “I wouldn't do that too much if I were you, after what you’ve been through.” He picked up another water bottle off the table and offered it to them as he sat back down. 

“And what did happen to me?” They asked before taking a drink.

The woman in the back of the room spoke up before Doc could answer. “You were shot in the head.” She was the one who spoke earlier… How did she know what happened… 

...Wait.

“What?!” They exclaimed, before the piercing pain came back with a vengeance. They grasped their head in their hands, saying “Guess that explains the pain. But how am I still alive?”

“We can talk about that later,” Doc interrupted, “but first I would like to give you a few tests to see if everything's right in that head. First,” he picked up a machine shaped like a hand mirror, “could you tell me if this looks right? I tried to put everything back how it was, but I had to do a decent amount of digging for the bullet.” 

Reflecting back from the projection was a slender face, lined with messy, curly brown hair and deep emerald eyes, the dark toned skin dotted with freckles, somewhere in their twenties. They tried to find any scarring on the forehead, but couldn’t really see any. “I think it’s right. I mean, nothing seems hideously wrong.” Before handing the machine back, they noticed a bracelet on their wrist. It was a thin black strip of worn leather attached to a metal plate, where the word “Six” could just be made out.

“Good,” the doctor spoke, interrupting their thoughts. “Next, if you can, walk over to that there Vit-O-Matic.” Doc Mitchell pointed to the odd machine in the back of the room as the woman stepped out. They walked over with Doc standing nearby should they need help. 

After stumbling for a few minutes, they made their way to the “Vit-O-Matic Vigor Test.” When they were done, the doc spoke up. “Yep, that’s a pretty standard score there. But after what you been through, I’d say that’s great news. Now come with me into that room.” He pointed to the room where the woman had gone. As they looked in there, they saw her sitting on a chair next to the door. Doc lead them to the couch in the center of the room and sat down in a chair facing them. He conducted a few more tests, mostly of a psychological nature. 

“Well, that’s all she wrote. Some… interesting answers, but I’d say you’re fine, considering you had a bullet in your brain but a week ago. Now, here’s what you had on you, along with some supplies to help you out for a while.” He handed them a note, a 9mm gun with a couple ammo cartridges, a few bobby pins, and a jumpsuit, similar to what the other woman was wearing, as well as a backpack. “I hope you don’t mind that I went through some of your stuff. I thought it might help me find out why you got shot in the head. That note there mentions you were delivering some poker chip to New Vegas from Primm. I’d start there, or ask the robot Victor if you wanna know more. Oh, by the way, what do you want me to call you? If you still don’t remember your name.”

They looked down, catching sight of the bracelet. “I… I think it’s Six. I’ll go with that. And thanks for everything, Doc.”’

“That’s my job. Come back if you ever need any help again. But try to keep the shots to the head to a minimum,” he said. “You should go see Sunny down in town. She could help you out a little, get your bearings back. Alyss,” he turned to the woman. “How about you take Six to the saloon to meet Sunny?”

“Sure,” she said with a sigh, “got nothing else to do. Also, take this.” She tossed a device like the one she was wearing onto the couch. “It’s a Pip-Boy 3000. Now get dressed.” She walked out of the room.

“Doc, what’s with her?” Six said.

“Well, that’s Alyss. She’s the one who helped save you.” Doc said. 

“What exactly happened?”

“Apparently the town robot, Victor, heard a something up in the old cemetery. He saw you getting shot in the head and, when the group left, dug you out. At some point, Alyss stumbled by and helped get you to me. And that was about a week ago.”

“So why is she so… gruff?”

“I’m not sure, but it’s not my business. If you want to know, you should ask her. I hope you don’t mind my asking, but what do you plan to do now?” Doc asked.

Six thought for a moment. “Well, first I should find out more about this package I was delivering. But, I really want to find the bastard that did this and-” A memory flashed through their head.

_ A glimpse of a man in a checkered suit, a nice looking pistol aimed at their forehead, a rope keeping them from moving their hands, then a flash, followed by pain. _

They stopped talking, reaching towards the aching in their head. “You alright there, Six?” Doc asked. 

“Yeah, yeah. I think I just… remembered something,” Six said. 

“That’ll probably be happening for the next while. You’ll start remembering things, probably older memories first, then more recent. Also a bit out of order at times,” he said. 

Six nodded, then paused a moment to read the note. “So it looks like I’ll be heading to Primm next, once I get my bearings.” Six looked back up at Doc Mitchell.

“Well, I suggest you talk to Victor about the men who grabbed you. And you should go see Sunny. She’s probably the friendliest person in town and I’m sure would be willing to help you get your bearings.”

Six nodded. “Thanks for the advice, and all the help again. I really do appreciate all you’ve done for me.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Doc said as he got up. “But you should probably get going now before Alyss gets impatient.” 

When Six left the house, they were greeted by the bright, unhindered sun of the Mojave Desert. Leaning against the house next to the door was Alyss, a large rifle strapped to her back. “So, are you ready…” She trailed off as she looked down at Six’s wrist. “You don’t know how to put on the Pip-Boy, do you?” Six shook their head. “Give it to me.” She held her hand out before Six with a sigh. 

Reaching into their bag for it, Six asked “Is it really that important?”

Alyss didn’t say anything as she grabbed the Pip-Boy and fastened it to Six’s wrist. “It’s going to sting for a second,” Alyss said as she turned on the machine. Six felt a needle stabbing into their wrist from under the machine. The feeling dissipating after a few seconds. 

“What was that feeling?” Six asked as they looked over the Pip-Boy.

“The Pip-Boy attaches itself to the user's nervous system, intercepting the electrical signals of your nerves, allowing it to track a large number of things without the user having to do much.” Alyss explained quickly as she began walking down the hill to the saloon, signaling for Six to follow. “Now let’s go.” 

Six nodded. After a moment, they stopped walking. “Wait,” they called out. Alyss turned around, annoyance clear on her face. “I feel like I’m missing something… Like, maybe some… Ugh, I can’t think of the word.” Alyss continued to stare. “It’s, um, I think it goes on my face? Helps me see better. Do you know what I’m talking about?”

“Glasses.” Alyss deadpanned. “You’re thinking of glasses. I guess you might need some…” Alyss turned back towards the tavern and started walking. 

“Wait up,” Six said as they ran to catch up, “where can I get some glasses?” 

Alyss didn’t look over and said “Your glasses probably fell somewhere around the cemetery, or where whoever shot you grabbed you.” 

Six waited for Alyss to continue. When it was obvious she wouldn’t, she asked. “Did you see where that was? Could you show me there? Also, where’s Victor? I want to see what the robot knows about the people who shot me.”

Alyss sighed. “Are you going to keep asking questions forever?” She paused and turned towards Six just before they reached the saloon. 

“I’m sorry I have a lot of questions. I did just get shot in the head and can’t remember a whole lot, so I think questions are warranted.” Six said. 

“Well they’re annoying, and out here in the wasteland, annoying can get you killed or worse. So I’d suggest you not have so many. But regardless, they shot you up on the cemetery and grabbed you a little ways north along the road, just outside town. And you can ask around town for Victor. Done being annoying?”

Six was quiet for a moment before brushing past Alyss and entering the saloon. 

Inside the Prospector’s Saloon was dark and dirty. The smell of alcohol and stale smoke was prominent. The sand was littered over the ground, along with a few empty bottles. The room they entered had woman with blonde hair in a messy bun who was currently feeding a dog. The dog stopped eating and barked as Six entered, causing the woman to look up. 

“Cheyenne, down,” the woman said to the dog, and then smiled at Six. “Hi there. You must be the new person the Doc was patching up. Nice to see you up and walking. I’m Sunny, by the way.” She offered her hand to shake.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Six,” they said, shaking hands. 

Alyss entered quietly, causing Sunny to look over Six’s shoulder and give a short nod before turning her attention back to Six. “How are you holding up? I heard you were in pretty bad shape.”

Six nodded. “Yeah, apparently a bullet to the head. I don’t really remember much. But I feel alright, if a little weak.”

“I can imagine. Well, I can show you a few things, help you get your groundings if you want.” Sunny said as Alyss slipped past them towards the bar. 

“Sure, I’d appreciate that.” Six said. 

“Great,” she grabbed her rifle from its resting place against the wall, “follow me out back.” They walked out the back door. Once they were outside, Sunny offered her rifle to Six. “Here, take this. You can keep it.” Sunny said with a wink, causing Six to blush and nod in thanks. 

“How about you try some shooting. See those bottles on the fence over there? Try shooting a couple.” Six took time to aim down the sights. They eventually knelt down, feeling like it was the natural thing to do. “Good. It’s easier to aim that way. You might not remember much, but it seems like your body does.” Six concentrated and fired. They had trouble seeing all the bottles, but managed to hit them all after a few tries.

“Good job.” Sunny said with a smile. “But shooting at stationary bottles ain’t much. I’ve got to go around the wells and clear some geckos. How about you join me and Cheyenne? Get some more practice?” 

Six thought for a moment then answered “Sure, sounds good.” 

With that, Sunny grabbed another rifle and lead Six to the first well. She stopped a bit away, motioning for Six to get low. “Were almost there, and they haven’t noticed us yet. We can sneak up on them. How about you take the first shot?” Six nodded and took point. 

They snuck as close as possible before taking a shot, a killing blow. From there Cheyenne shot out and began attacking them. Sunny came around the rock and started shooting. Between the three of them, they quickly finished off the pack of geckos. 

“You’re a pretty decent shot.” Six blushed at the compliment. “Now let’s go clear the other wells.” They finished clearing all the wells in about an hour. Once the last one was dead, Sunny let out a sigh of relief. “Well that was fun. Do you have anything you want help with? I could show you how to cook, maybe scavenge a little bit.” 

Six considered it for a moment, but shook their head. “No, I think I should head back. Thanks for the help and the rifle though.”

Sunny’s smile dropped a little. “Well, if you’re sure. Before you leave though, you should say hi to Trudy, the bar owner. She likes to meet all the newcomers in town.” Six nodded and said goodbye. 

When they entered the Prospectors Saloon, there was some loud argument coming from the bar.   
“You’d better give us Ringo. We know he’s here!” A man said. 

“And I’m telling you, for the thousandth time, we don’t know where he is.” A woman answered. 

“Sure you don’t. You have until the end of the day to give him up, or there’s going to be trouble.” He said.

“Oh really? Well, is that all? If it is, then I hope you wouldn’t mind leaving my saloon.” The woman said.

Six head some footsteps approaching and saw a man wearing a leather jacket and blue jeans storm past and out the door. 

Six cautiously entered the room to see a woman standing behind the bar cleaning some glasses, who looked up as they approached the bar. “I’m guessing you’re Trudy? I’m Six.” They offered their hand.

She took it with a frim shake. “Yes, I’m Trudy, the owner of this here saloon. It’s nice to meet you. I’m assuming you’re the one that Doc Mitchell has been patching up?” Six nodded. “Good to see he still has it in him. Well, welcome to the Prospectors Saloon. I’m sorry for the rudeness you had to see coming in.”

“What was that about, anyway?” Six asked. 

“Oh, just some bully named Joe Cobb looking for a caravaneer that apparently escaped him and his gang.” Trudy said, returning to cleaning glasses.   
“Maybe I can help,” Six said. “Do you know where he is?”

“He’s holed up in the old gas station up the hill if you want to talk to him. But I’d suggest you leave, he’s nothing but trouble, just like Joe Cobb and his gang. Personally, I wish he would just leave and take the gang with him,” Trudy said. 

“Oh, and do you know where Alyss went?” Six asked. 

“Oh, her? I think she left town. Pretty much chugged a drink and packed her things. No idea where she went,” Trudy said. 

“Oh okay. Thanks anyway,” Six said as they left.

Six exited the saloon and began walking up the hill before remembering what Alyss said. Six sighed and began walking towards the cemetery. As they got close, they saw some giant, mutant looking flies in the cemetery.  

Six pulled out their rifle and began sneaking towards the insects. Once they were about 100 feet away, Six tripped. The flies immediately noticed and flew towards them. Six panicked and scrambled up as they shot venom or stingers or something. Somewhere in the panic, Six bumped their hand along the Pip-Boy and time slowed down. 

They felt calm as they were able to aim and easily hit the flies, killing them all before the first one fell. Once the feeling faded, Six took a deep breath. 

“Reminder to ask Alyss what the hell that was if I ever see her again… Now, If you had glasses, they would probably somewhere around here…” Six trailed off while beginning to search the area. 

They finally found them a few feet away from a recently dug out grave, which they assumed to be theirs. They glanced back at it, now adorned with glasses, and had another flash of memories. 

_ The gun barrel clearly in their face, the white and engraved gold along the sides. The man’s smug grin as he says “truth is, the game was rigged from the start.” _

Six shook their head, clearing it of the rage that rose suddenly. “There will be a time for revenge and answers. No use in sitting on it and doing nothing,” they said quietly to themselves before walking to the gas station. 

When they got there, they knocked on the door, but heard no answer. Six tested the door knob and found it unlocked. “Here goes nothing,” they muttered before pushing it open.  
Six entered the building and was greeted by dust. It was dark, with most of the windows boarded up. It was trashed, with the shelves in the back mostly broken and some junk scattered on the ground. To the right of the door was the service counter, with a man holding a gun up behind it.  
“Stop! Who are you? What are you doing here? Did Joe Cobb send you?” The man demanded. 

Six put their hands in the air. “Don’t worry. We weren’t sent by Joe Cobb. My name’s Six. I just wanted to come see if I could help out at all.” The man lowered his gun and sighed. 

“Well, okay. My name’s Ringo.”

“So why is Joe Cobb and his gang after you?” Six asked while moving in and closing the door.

“Well, I was traveling with my caravan nearby when those Powder Gangers jumped us and demanded some payment to pass through safely. We resisted and they attacked us. They killed the rest of my caravan, but I managed to get a few of them in return.” He said. 

“Alright. So do you want some help with dealing with them?” Six asked.

“Sure, but the two of us can’t take them alone.” He said.

“I’m sure Sunny would help if we asked, and maybe we could convince some of the others to help.” Six said. 

“Alright. If you can go talk to them, I’ll stay here and keep things locked down.” He said. Six subtly rolled their eyes and walked back out to the town. 

Six walked into the saloon and found Sunny sitting where she was earlier. “Hey there, Six,” she said when she noticed their entrance.

“Hey.” Six said. “So do you know about the whole Joe Cobb and Ringo situation?” Sunny nodded. “Well, I was hoping you could help him, or rather, us out with stopping the Powder Gangers.”

“Say no more, I’m in.” Sunny said.

Six looked taken aback. “Really? That’s all it takes?” 

“Yeah, I’ve been waiting for him to ask. Besides, I know those Powder Ganger type. They wouldn’t leave us alone, even if we gave them Ringo.” She said. “But just us won’t be enough. We can ask Trudy, she can convince the others in town. I know Easy Pete might have a stash of dynamite, but you’d have to prove you know how to use it. We could use some more armor, and maybe some extra ammo. I would suggest talking to the general store owner. And finally, we can ask Doc Mitchell for any spare medical supplies.”

They decided Six would talk to Trudy and Doc and Sunny would handle Easy Pete and the general store merchant before scouting to see where the Powder Gangers are holding up. 

Six walked into the next room while the others left. Trudy greeted them with a smile. 

“Hey Trudy. So, we went up and talked to Ringo. He could really use the town’s help, and I think you could help gather everyone and get together a force to fight those Powder Gangers off,” Six said, sitting at the bar.

“Well,” Trudy set down the glass she was cleaning, “I don’t see why we should get involved. We should stay out of it and let them settle things themselves. Maybe you don’t remember, but that’s how things work out here in the Wasteland.”

Six was quiet for a moment. “What do you think they are going to do once Ringo leaves? Or dies?”

“They’ll leave us alone. They’re all bark, no bite,” Trudy said.

“No, they won’t. They’ll come after you next. They think they own the area as it is. They killed all of Ringo’s caravan. All of them. They won’t hesitate to do the same to you all, to send a message.”

Trudy went back to cleaning, seriously considering what Six said. She cleaned a few cups before turning back to Six. “You’re right. We need to stand up for ourselves. I’ll organize the rest of the town. You go tell Ringo we’ll set up an ambush here along the mainstreet.”

Six let go of a breath they didn’t notice they were holding. “Thank you. Sunny will probably come through here and let you know when they’re coming.”

They went over to Doc’s house, and was able to easily get some supplies from the doctor for the town. Six then returned and waited for Sunny to return, divvying up some of the supplies with Ringo. 

About an hour later, Sunny came up to the station. “The townspeople are in position, and it looks like the gang is on it’s way and not willing to talk. Real quick, I also got some explosives and some armor,” she said while tossing them towards the others. “Hurry up and let’s go.”

“I’ll stay back here and provide some cover support.” Alyss said, picking up her large sniper rifle. “Here’s some explosives.” She handed them to Ringo and SIx. “Good Luck.”

They dispersed and made their way down the road. A few minutes later, they could hear the Powder Gangers taking a few shots into the air. They waited until they were in the town to ambush on Sunny’s signal. 

Six was quickly lost in the chaos. They tried to get a few shots off, but mostly missed. They did manage to launch one stick of dynamite out, hitting someone, judging by the screams. One of the last gang members turned the corner around the house, but fell silent as a gaping hole appeared in his chest. Six watched as the man fell to reveal Sunny standing behind him with her rifle. 

After a few short minutes, the shooting ceased. One of the townsfolk had managed to tie up Joe Cobb and had pulled him into the middle of the street. Ringo was holding a gun to his head while most everyone was going back to their lives. Six and Sunny both walked up to them. 

“Please kill him quickly.” Sunny said. “Nobody deserves to be tied up and wait to be shot.” The image from earlier flashed through Six’s head.

Ringo was about to protest, but a loud shot cut him off, as well as a spray of blood from the corpse he was now holding. The two of them looked over to Six who was lowering their arm. “Well, I guess that’s one way.” Ringo said. “Thanks for helping me. I can’t pay you much, but here you go. And I’ll put in a good word at the Crimson Caravan. If you ever need some work, hit them up and they’ll give you something.” He handed them a bag with some bottle caps and left. 

Six and Sunny agreed to get cleaned up and meet back at the saloon. Six went back to the doc’s place and, after some reassurances they weren’t hurt, managed to get a shower. 

It was then that the adrenaline fell away and the full impact of what they had just seen hit. They threw up a few times, unable to get the picture of skin being torn open from their mind. Once they calmed down enough, they headed back to the saloon, entering through the back. 

Sunny was already there, sipping a drink at the bar with Cheyenne sitting next to her.

“Doing alright?” Sunny asked when Six sat next to her. 

“I guess. I’m just having a little trouble dealing with… all that.” Six said

Sunny nodded. “You’ll get used to it.” She said before chugging the rest of her drink and ordering another. 

Six wasn’t so sure, but didn’t say anything. They chatted for a while, and Sunny even began to flirt. Soon they changed the topic.

“So, what’s next?” Sunny asked.

“I’m heading off to Primm tomorrow,” Six said. 

“That soon? You just woke up,” Sunny said. “Besides, we could use someone kind and helping around here.” She added with a wink.

Six chuckled. “That may be true, but I need to find the person who tried to kill me. I can’t stay here while they just keep getting further away.”

Sunny was quiet for a while. “I understand. Well,” she said, “I wish you luck on your hunt.” She left as Six finished their last drink. 

Six decided to sleep in the gas station for the night, knowing it was pretty safe, free, and no longer occupied. 

They woke up early the next morning, sore from the previous day but determined. They then went to the outskirts of town, looking for the robot Victor. 

Six found him closing the door to his house. As they walked up, Victor turned and called out, “Howdy, partner.”

“Hi, I’m Six, and I’m assuming you’re Victor,” Six said.

“The one and only. And you’re that one I helped save from the cemetery. How can I help you?” 

“Well, I was hoping you could help me find the man who shot me. Anything you saw or know could help.”

“Well, the one who shot you was wearing a checkered suit. He also had some other fellows with him Some real rough and tumble looking folks, not ones I’d like to mess with.”

“Did you happen to overhear anything? A name, or maybe where they were headed?”

“Nope. I was too far away, trying not to be noticed.”

“Welp,” Six said exasperated, “Thanks for the help. You really saved my life.”

“That wasn’t just me. Alyss helped a lot,” he said, “but I’m glad to be of service. Let me know if you need anything else.”

“Will do,” Six said, already walking away. They headed south out of the town, towards Primm and in the same direction as their attempted killer. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hello readers! I hope you enjoyed reading! This work has been in the making for a long time and I hope you'll join me on it's way to completion. I don't think the other chapters will be quite this long, but only time will tell.  
> This is the first part in a series of works called All Roads Lead to War that'll be rewriting the fallout games. I'm starting with New Vegas because it's my favorite, then I'll fill in the Lone Wanderers backstory, then move on to 4. Hope you stick around for the ride, 'cause it's bound to be a wild one. 
> 
> EDIT: I recently found some problems with the plot as I started writing the rest of the fic, so I rewrote this chapter to fit better. I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Until next time, have a wonderful day!


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